The Breaking Point

The following days felt like walking through a fog. Every moment dragged, every conversation felt shallow, and Elena couldn't seem to shake the heaviness that hung over her. Sophie hadn't come back to the dorm, and each time Elena thought about calling, she hesitated, afraid that whatever words she might say would make things worse.

Nathaniel had kept his distance too, his messages brief and to the point. After his last text, he hadn't reached out again. Elena knew he was giving her space, respecting the silence between them—but it felt like another wall had been built between them, a wall she wasn't sure could ever be torn down.

She tried to focus on her classes, tried to push away the growing ache in her chest, but it was impossible. She kept replaying the argument with Sophie in her mind, wondering where everything had gone wrong.

But she also couldn't ignore the growing pull toward Nathaniel, the ache for him that was just as present, just as undeniable. Every thought, every breath seemed tangled with him, and it scared her.

Elena stood at the edge of the campus courtyard, staring at the steady stream of students passing by. The cold autumn air nipped at her skin, but it did little to cool the fire inside her.

She had to face this.

She had to face Sophie.

Before the damage became irreversible.

Elena didn't know how long she had been standing there, lost in her thoughts, when she felt the presence behind her. The feeling of being watched, like something—or someone—was pulling at her attention. She turned, and there he was.

Nathaniel.

He was standing a few feet away, his hands tucked in his pockets, his usual calm demeanor replaced by something softer, more intense. The look in his eyes made her heart beat faster, and for a moment, she wondered if she had imagined all the distance he had put between them.

"You're here," she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper.

"I was hoping you'd come to me," Nathaniel replied, his voice smooth but laced with an unspoken question.

Elena swallowed, the weight of everything pressing down on her. "I've been meaning to talk to you."

"I know," he said simply.

There was a long silence, one that stretched between them like a bridge that neither was sure they wanted to cross.

Finally, Elena spoke again, her voice soft but steady. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore."

Nathaniel's gaze softened, and he took a step closer, just close enough that she could feel the heat from his body, the tension radiating off him. "You're doing the only thing you can do."

Elena looked up at him, her breath catching. "Which is what?"

"Trying to figure it out." His eyes locked on hers, intense and searching. "I'm not going anywhere, Elena. Not unless you tell me to."

Her heart twisted, a mix of longing and fear flooding her veins. "I don't know if I can keep doing this."

Nathaniel stepped closer, his hand reaching for hers, fingers brushing gently against her skin. "You don't have to do it alone."

But as he took her hand, the memory of Sophie's angry words echoed in Elena's mind. Could she keep this secret? Could she live with the weight of what she was doing, knowing it had already cost her so much?

"I just need time," she whispered.

Nathaniel nodded slowly, his thumb gently rubbing the back of her hand. "Time, then." His voice was calm, steady. "But I'm not going anywhere. Not unless you push me away."

Elena closed her eyes, the feeling of his touch grounding her in the storm of emotions swirling inside her. She didn't know what the future held—she didn't know if she could make this work, if it was even worth the risk.

But right now, in this moment, with Nathaniel's hand in hers, she couldn't bring herself to let go.

Later that day, Elena sat at the edge of the fountain near the student union, her mind spinning with the conversation she'd just had with Nathaniel. Time. That's all they had, all she could ask for. And yet, something still gnawed at her, a feeling she couldn't shake.

She had texted Sophie again, asking to meet. No response.

The ache in her chest was unbearable, and she could no longer push the feeling away. She needed to see Sophie. To fix things, somehow.

The sharp, cold wind cut through her thoughts, and Elena stood, pulling her jacket tighter around her as she walked toward the dorm. She didn't know what she was going to say when she finally saw Sophie again, but she had to try.

As she neared the door to their room, it swung open before she could reach for the handle. Sophie stood there, her face unreadable.

"Elena," Sophie said, her voice low.

"I—I've been trying to reach you," Elena stammered, her heart in her throat.

"I know," Sophie replied, her voice tinged with something cold. "I got your texts."

Elena took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever came next. "I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner, but I—"

But Sophie cut her off, her eyes narrowing slightly. "No. You shouldn't have done this at all."

Elena's stomach churned, but she pressed on. "I never meant for it to happen. I never wanted to hurt you, Sophie."

Sophie didn't move, her gaze still intense, but there was something softer now, a hint of vulnerability behind the walls she had built up. "Then why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you trust me enough to say something?"

Elena swallowed. "I didn't know how. And I was scared. I didn't want to lose you."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then Sophie stepped forward, her eyes locked on Elena's.

"I don't know if I can forgive you for this," she said quietly.

The words stung more than Elena expected. But she nodded, taking in the weight of what Sophie was saying.

"I don't expect you to," she whispered.

"I need time too," Sophie said, her voice trembling slightly.

Elena's heart dropped, but she understood.

"I'll give you time," she replied softly. "But I'm here when you're ready."

Sophie nodded once, her eyes glistening with something Elena couldn't quite identify before she turned and walked back into the room, leaving Elena standing alone in the hallway.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Elena felt the full weight of the silence between them. But she wasn't ready to give up. Not yet.